William T. Spears (
death_glare) wrote in
thedispatch2019-11-23 08:55 pm
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William dropped down from his horse. It had been a long ride - from London straight down to the southern coast of England. But he'd barely stopped, only doing so when his horse refused to go further without rest and water. But each time, William did little more than tap his foot anxiously, trying to focus on anything but his thoughts of what happened the day before.
But now that he'd arrived, there was nothing else to distract him. The horse was forgotten as he walked towards where the English Channel extended out to what seemed like eternity. With the thick fog of the early morning, there was no telling just what was out there. William's breath was shaky as his gaze then drifted down. Beachy Head, a beautiful site for some, with the tall cliff towering over the shore line below. But for him, this day, it was his enemy - or perhaps his closes friend. Whichever the case, he was terrified.
But now that he'd arrived, there was nothing else to distract him. The horse was forgotten as he walked towards where the English Channel extended out to what seemed like eternity. With the thick fog of the early morning, there was no telling just what was out there. William's breath was shaky as his gaze then drifted down. Beachy Head, a beautiful site for some, with the tall cliff towering over the shore line below. But for him, this day, it was his enemy - or perhaps his closes friend. Whichever the case, he was terrified.
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[ He really has little knowledge of the makeup process, and normally wouldn't find much interest in it. But somehow with Grell he's finding himself curious on more things. Perhaps it's the desire to learn more about her, or just that she's able to draw something from him that no one's succeeded at before. ]
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Silently, she returns to the mirror, taking in a good look at herself - and she can see what he means. That's only the half of it, isn't it? With a sigh, she opens the containers, sets aside her glasses, and picks up the hand mirror.
And then, she begins to apply her makeup. ]
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There's a crease in his brow as the questions float through his mind. ]
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When she attempts to catch William's opinion of her, she only sees that folded brow! Her shoulders slump. ]
I feared that would be the case. I'm sorry, Will.
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That wasn't directed towards you. My mind wandered off for a moment.
[ His brow relaxes and he takes in all she's done while he was distracted. He quite disappointed that he'd missed the process. ]
Honestly, I think you look quite beautiful.
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Fingers hooking into her collar, she swallows. ]
You mean that...?
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[ He takes her hands down from her collar and rests them in her lap. ]
The red lip near matches your hair.
[ It's obvious by his calm tone that he quite likes that. ]
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I wasn't certain if I should draw any more attention to its colour in that way...[ She's got a shy little smile on, though. After all, she does like red! ]
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[ Though the redness to her chest has him concerned. Seems he can't yet figure out that it's her blushing, not running a fevor. ]
Perhaps I should have let you dress up after the nap. You're flushed again.
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I-- [ She can't keep doing this; she's got to just tell him! ] I'm flustered, that's all...
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[ Gosh William, she's confessed to fancying you. Are you honestly that dense? ]
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Y..ou...?
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[ He let's her hands go, sitting straight in his seat again. ]
I apologise. It must seem as though I'm leading you on.
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P-please don't feel that way, Will. I won't
ever expect anything of you... and it's been quite nice to feel genuine kindness...
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Tell me if I'm ever making you feel uncomfortable, then.
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Though, I doubt you could.
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[ That matter out of the way, for now at least, William looks her face over again. Her hair is beautiful down, but paired with the makeup and dress, it seems like it needs something. ]
Perhaps we should style your hair in some manner, next.
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I'm not certain that I'll be any good at a women"s updo...
[ And yet, she's using her fingers to rake one side of her hair up into a twist, just to see. ]
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[ Too bad the internet won't be around for another 200+ years. William reaches out with the intention of brushing the strands away from the opposite side of her face but pauses, realising he's doing yet another thing that may fluster her. ]
Is there some means of giving it a curl?
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Ah, yes!
[ While exclaiming so, her eyes wander about the vanity - and, by fortune, it seems his wife owned an iron.
She shifts to get up, so that she might grab the nearest candle, but forgets her limited mobility. Unable to bend her waist and swing her weight upward, her bottom plops right back down into the seat.
A hand hovering in front of her face in shame, she uses her other to gesture toward the candle and matches. ]
Will, could you please...
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Glancing up at him with the briefest little smile, as she accepts the candle. Though, when she picks up the wand, she isn't absolutley certain what to do. Leaning over, she looks at the base, humming - and then, tilting the candle, she uses it to light the two wells that will ignite and heat the iron.
Looking to William, she's quite excited to have it working! ]
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Is there something I can assist with, then?
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Um, could you help me with the back, perhaps...?
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[ Standing, he moves behind her. He briefly runs his fingers through her hair before realising they will most likely need something to pin her hair up with. A decorative box sits atop the vanity and upon opening it, an array of hairpins are revealed. However, he may know where the pins are, but how to use them is another story.
A lock of hair is taken in hand and he holds it up, unsure of where he's meant to pin it. ]
I would assume we should raise it up before curling at all?
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